Of Maleficent and the perfect spring day
by TwoForATable
Summary: James Bond never thought he would be a family man or have a life outside of the MI6, it's certainly a part of him that he's yet to get used to. However, these few days with his daughter were enough to brighten up his world... At age 50, the 00- life should be a young man's game, but that monumental stubbornness in him kept him from making the ultimate decision. What will he choose?
1. Of Maleficent and the perfect spring day

Springtime was probably the best part of the year. Everything seamed brighter in London, despite the cloudy skies and near-daily showers. The parks bore an ever-bright green, flowers of all types and colors adorned the gardens and even the stern faces of the londoners seamed merrier. School wouldn't return for another two days and so father and daughter decided to go out for a stroll. It was moments like these that made him cherish life, forget all the violence, all the trauma, all the blood he himself spilled and the blows and pains he had suffered to spend two weeks of perfect illusion with his little one.

Olivia was now five years old, she could run, she could climb, she could count to one hundred and last week she had learned how to ride her bicycle without training wheels, and he was proud of the patience and teaching skills he never thought he had. Yesterday had been quite eventful, in the morning he had cooked one of the very few things other than alcohol that he could concuct: apple pie. In the afternoon, after stuffing their faces with their "masterpiece" and vanilla ice cream (his spiked with some cognac) and taking at least two hours to be ready to leave they went to the cinema and watched "Maleficent" in 3D.

He never thought it would be so good, despite Angelina Jolie's seemingly perfect looks. What he had enjoyed most was the comment Olivia made at the end when he inquired on her favorite part of the motion picture.

"You're my Maleficent dad." No _I Love you's _or _you're my hero's,_ just that. A man who raised her mostly from afar, who many times didn't seem so attached, but despite that, her father who loved her unconditionally. In a rare public display of affection he had crouched down and given her the tightest, warmest, the best hug of their lives. The only pain there was the knowledge that in a few days his holidays would be over and he would be forced to report to the new M at MI6. James would be again replaced by 007, the man with a gaping hole for a heart. A man who killed without the blink of an eye, a man with no law, no love, no laughter. A man who didn't have a daughter—a man who was selfishly unafraid to leave her alone in the world. They had offered him a desk job in London... he, too proud hadn't accepted. Mallory, a family man himself had tried to caution him, to no avail. Who was he without his gun, without his cars, the adrenaline, the scheming, the seducing, the adventure? All he knew what to be was an agent, and that is something he planned on doing until his last breath.

But when he was with Olivia... he was so, so different. He was someone else, it was as if some other entity took over his body, mind and soul and he lived and breathed and got up at six in the morning everyday for her. It was nice, for two or three weeks.

Olivia lived in a townhouse in kensignton owned by him. Her mother had died as she was being born, one life for another. She'd had an aneurysm that somehow no one was able to detect priorly, while pushing and pushing for her baby to come out.

He had met Ana on a mission to Portugal, she was there a beautiful fado singer in black, a richly embroidered shawl around her slender, olive-skinned arms as she sung her heart out. In Portugal, when a fado singer opened his or her mouth to sing, everyone went silent, in awe of the pure emotion and artistry. When Ana opened her mouth—people were hypnotized, completely baffled, moved to tears, touched. She smiled, curling her bright red lips, looking straight at him who enjoyed a glass of porto in a corner of the taverna.

He'd been the only one there to stand emotionless... it had intrigued her to the point of confronting him and later that night the Portuguese goddess had made her way into his bed, into his life and allowed him to come into hers. One week later they were married in Coimbra, five months later they were expecting their first child and less than a year after that, he was burying her in a cemetery in Lisbon, their daughter in his arms and Ana's mother clinging to his other arm, head to toe in black. She was a widow, she had lost her only child, her only family... Maria followed them to London and here raised and educated Olivia more than he could say for himself.

As he sat on a wooden bench under the shade of a tree he watched as she charmed her way into the circle of children by the playground and joined in their game. She looked nothing like him—all her mother. Perhaps the only noticeable thing she had inherited from him was the character. In many ways that terrified him.

As the sun began to set and his omega watch displayed 6 o'clock, he called her over and made her put her sandals back on. Her brown curls were all over the place and her big eyes sparkled. Her baby cheeks were red from all the running she had done and she wouldn't stop talking about how the other boy and girl enjoyed "Peppa Pig" and "Charlie &amp; Lola" just as she.

James just nodded along to everything she said, aham here, hmm there... Simply walking towards their car with her tiny hand in his, knowing that soon they would be home, made him feel... good.

…

Maria awaited them with dinner nearly done and the house impeccably clean. Only God knew how these women were capable of multi-tasking so spectacularly. Tending to the children, tidying the house, cooking, cleaning, keeping themselves informed of all the neighborhood gossip and watching all their Portuguese and Brazilian soap operas... And at the end of the day, looking nice and fresh, ready to go out on a date. It had only been a month since Maria met Anthony Michaelson, a well-off divorcee who owned an amusement park. That Dona Maria Alcantara was interested in paintball, rock climbing, rollercoasters and bungee jumping James had never suspected.

She left her specialty on the table, cod-fish with potatoes and _natas_, pearly white rice, salad, wine for him and freshly made passion-fruit juice for Olivia. She kissed both on the cheeks, fetched her purse and left with a bright red smile on her face.

Olivia just stared after her _avó_ and then at him, quizzically.

"Dinner and bath, love. Tomorrow's another day..." She nodded and he followed her into the bathroom to wash their hands.

…

Dinner passed and both Bonds decently scrubbed and dressed in their sleeping attire, they lay on James' large bed, on top of pristine, Egyptian cotton white blankets, as soft as clouds probably were, Olivia's head rested on his shoulder, watching yet another re-run of "Peppa Pig". As she began to close her eyes, he whispered sweet little nothings into her ear, snuggled even closer to her and enjoyed these priceless last hours of slumber before he'd return to "reality". He kissed her on the forehead and relished the scent of her lavender "Johnson's baby" shampoo... his heart already aching.


	2. The bad, bad day

James held Olivia tight against his chest, in a hurry to get to the nearest pharmacy. This morning had been like hell. Olivia had thrown a fit when she overheard James on the phone with Moneypenny, letting her know that tomorrow he'd be at headquarters, ready for the next mission... in Thailand. Unfortunately Olivia was fond of maps and knew very well that Thailand wasn't too far from China or Malaysia... she knew it would be far away and knew that once again he would be gone, indefinitely. All day she refused to play, eat, watch television, bathe or even drink water. And now here they were, Olivia was burning in fever and complaining of a headache and Maria was held up in Plymouth because of the rains.

At the pharmacy he restocked on paracetamol and tried to get he to eat some soup at the restaurant across the street, the medicine would do her no good if she hadn't anything in her. James cursed the heavens for giving him a daughter with an obstinacy as strong as his.

As he sat in front of her at the quaint little place called "The Lion's Den", staring at her sternly to see if she would budge, Olivia was able to hold her own ground.

"Olivia, you have to eat in order to take your medicine."

"No."

"You'll get worse... Olivia, eat."

"No. I don't wanna eat!" She shouted and James became embarrassed as the people around them turned to look.

James got up with a huff and threw the cloth napkin on the table.

"I'm going to the men's room and when I return I want you to have eaten at least half of your soup, understood?" Olivia glared at him intensely. If she weren't a girl, if she weren't his daughter and if she weren't just a child, God forbid, he would've already shot her.

He headed out and signaled for the waitress to keep an eye. She nodded wordlessly.

He entered the men's room and splashed some water on his face. As he stared at his reflection in the mirror, the hardened expression, the creases on his forehead, the lines that only grew at the corner of his eyes. He was just so tired... he sighed and thought about this entire situation, the hell he'd gone through today. Give him a life-risking mission any day, mafia's to overcome, terrorists to fight. But Olivia as mad as she was at him, as disappointed as she felt—it was no use lying, he could see it in her big brown eyes—it frustrated him so much. For the first time ever since he returned to his work when Olivia was three months old he was witnessing the monster he had created. Never could he imagined the anger and pain that she felt when he came and left—the crushed hopes. Now he felt it under his skin, now he felt as if he himself was the world's greatest villain. He was the villain of her world. Maleficent.

He stared at his watch, seven minutes had past. He glanced one more time at his reflection and returned to their table.

Olivia sat there coloring with crayons on a paper the staff had given her. Everything was black and deep shades of green, violet and gray. This was how she felt, a cluster of angry and painful emotions. Darkness. Little girls should never feel like this.

"Olivia..." James whispered as he leaned next to her. She looked at him with a deep frown, knitted eyebrows and brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He sighed and embraced her, kissing her soft hair. Today had been their most difficult day yet.

The waitress shyly interrupted them and informed James that not only had Olivia eaten all of her soup but asked for more... James looked at his daughter who still with a frown on her face looked away, unhappy that she hadn't been able to resist. James set the money he owed on the tabletop and caressed Olivia's rosy cheek with the back of his hand.

"I won't apologize." She murmured, crossing her arms. James nodded, he probably was the one who needed to.

"That's fine. May we go home now then?" Olivia nodded chewing at her bottom lip and followed him out the door.

…

As he put her in bed that night, medicine given and a story read, James went down the stairs and sat in front of the lovely brick and iron fireplace that he started. He sat there for a long moment watching as it crackled and consumed the wood, the flames dancing around, their colors beautiful and enticing. He thought of how much pain he'd inadvertently caused his daughter. Or perhaps he did know of it all along, he himself had been put in her position as a child by his parents, but had never allowed himself to thoroughly think of it or address it. Some things are just easier if forgotten... he now fully recognized that every time he came and stayed with her, was her father, he replanted that little seed of hope in her heart and that every time he left he tore it away and left her shaken and distraught.

His phone rang. With a roll of the eyes he saw it was Moneypenny...

"Yes?"

"James—Mallory would like to meet you tomorrow before lunch, it's something about a former mission of yours, something has come up. This means you can have the morning free and from what it looks like, 004 has been sent to Asia in your place."

"I'll be working in London?"

"For the time being. Be at St. Elms restaurant at noon. Goodnight."

"Moneypenny?"

"Hmm?"

"It's... It's nothing. Goodnight." He hung up and threw his phone on top of the leather armchair next to him. "It's time for bed."

…

Maria wasn't due to arrive until 4 o'clock the next day, according to the message she'd sent him apologizing. So as he woke his daughter at six-thirty and set the toast and bowl of fruit salad in front of her James immediately informed her that he would be taking her to school today. Needless to say Olivia was ecstatic, she was one of those children who never missed a day of it, avid as she was for learning. James was extremely proud of this, already his daughter was the top of her class and possessed the largest number of golden stars... However, Olivia's academic efforts didn't keep her from being the most problematic.

The clock struck half-past seven and already they were running late. Olivia couldn't remember where she left her pouch of school supplies or the left side of her shoe. They ran around the house looking for this and that and James struggled to tie up her hair and button her navy cardigan. As they entered the car, James examined her looks and admired the St. Catherine's School emblem on her shirt, he strapped her in the back and the two were off.

Five minutes late and rushing towards the entrance they passed the security guard at the door, Mr. Linely and Olivia pulled James by the hand towards the west wing of the school where room k-b was. Mrs. Horowitz was at the door and greeted Olivia with a smile and pat on the head, inviting her to her seat. The graying woman turned to James and extended her hand.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet Olivia's father. I'm Elizabeth Horowitz." James shook her hand firmly.

"Bond, James Bond." The teacher nodded.

"I realize you travel a lot, Mr. Bond, so I would like to offer you an invitation, if you're able, to visit our school later this week for a meeting with myself, our headmistress and our guidance counselor Mr. Lowell, to get you better familiarized with your daughter's situation..."

"She's that bad?" James asked and Mrs. Horowitz's eyes went wide. With a hand on her face she nodded.

"Olivia's an outstanding student, Mr. Bond, but what worries us is her temperament and overall behavior." James nodded and sighed.

"Is tomorrow morning all right?" He questioned and Mrs. Horowitz smiled brightly, nodding.

"Perfect. Until tomorrow then, Mr. Bond."

"Yes. Goodbye." James sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. This would be one hell of a week.

…


	3. Red Alert

Olivia sat in the backseat of their car. They had been driving for ten minutes and already she was fighting sleep. James stopped at the red light and stared back at the prettiest little girl he'd ever seen. Her cheeks were red because of the rain and cold outside and her stuffed elephant, Ellie was with her, lavender, stained, worn, but just about the softest thing.

He'd met her headmistress. A beautiful woman in her mid-thirties with the most striking blue eyes and rosy lips. Her black curls formed a main of hair that exuded the scent of lavender and vanilla. Her very presence calmed you instantly and the barely-there freckles scattered on her cheekbones balanced her straightforwardness and domineering demeanor. Her name was Annalise Portman and she was the most attractive woman he'd seen in ages.

Nevermind the annoying school councilor, with his criticisms and unpleasantness. Bond strongly suspected the man had a "thing" for the secretary, anyone really wearing a skirt and still lived with his half-deaf mother. Perhaps that was why he spoke so loudly and Olivia hated him with all her might.

Annalise had been kind and understanding of his and Olivia's situation. After Mr. Scotts left the room, she had smiled reassuringly and stated that one thing was to be agreed: James needed to make the effort of dedicating more of his time to Olivia—not just having fun or going to the park, but educating and disciplining her and that she would like to meet with him from now on twice a month so they could discuss all things Olivia. In other words, he would be very tempted to seduce her, but absolutely could not. For the sake of his daughter.

…

"You're late." Mrs. Horowitz wasn't on a very good mood this Thursday morning. She bore a deep frown on her face and Olivia knew better than to be inconvenient today. The girl bid her teacher a quick good morning and hurried to her seat in the front row, right next to Mrs. Horowitz's desk. Olivia had the "bad kid's"seat.

"Very sorry, ma'am. Olivia wasn't feeling too well early morning, awoke a bit feverish, so I waited to see if it would continue—or not." Mrs. Horowitz nodded stifly and shrugged.

"The weather really _isn't_ the best these days. Good day, Mr. Bond." She shut the door in his face and he huffed in annoyance. When women weren't falling at his feet they were forming a club of Bond-haters.

…

Work was uneventful today. Moneypenny had come and dropped off a stack of very late reports for him to finish and sign. Three years' worth of them.

"Quit sulking, Bond, things are bound to get worse..." She trailed off with a sigh, taking a seat in the chair in front of him. "Palestine and Israel are driving us mad and their respective governments are no help either. How's life?"

"Hmph." Was his only response. He never spoke of his personal life, even to Moneypenny, although she knew he had a small daughter who he named after the former M. She did get to read all of the 00's files anyway, as the secretary-in-chief.

"How's your girl?"

"Better. She can ride a bicycle now."

"You taught her?" Moneypenny had a warm smile on her face now, typical of women who were in their thirties and still dreaming with prince charmings and happily-ever-afters with six noisy children.

"Yes! Anything else, now?" Bond replied, becoming irritated. It was highly uncomfortable to speak publicly of his daughter. There wasn't a day he didn't wake up, fearing someone had got to her and she was in danger—or worse, dead.

"No, nothing. Hand me those today by four. We don't need you to be late to fetch your child from school."

"Don't tell anyone." Moneypenny got up and locked eyes with him, sternly.

"You know I wont."

…

At half-past two, alarms soared everywhere in the MI6 headquarters. Red alert and the Quartermaster's division went crazy, everyone running around, preparing gear and others evacuating. Moneypenny messaged him to evacuate, he had a child to raise. He wouldn't leave everyone behind, while under attack.

Staying, he grabbed his guns and met up at the meeting office with M and several other 00's.

…

Olivia was the last at school and therefor, sat with Ms. Portman in her office. The lady had tried phoning James, Maria and their home several times but it was no use. No one answered.

"Darling, where could your father be?" Olivia looked up, her face distraught and tears threatening to fall.

"Thailand."

"Thailand?" Annalise Portman questioned in a tone of disbelief. Olivia simply nodded, defeated and curled up her legs to cry.


	4. Author's Note (Please read!)

**Author's note (Please read!): **

**I have reached a point where I desperately want to write and have so many ideas, but suddenly become unmotivated to go on writing due to the lac****k**** of feedbac****k from my readers. I think most of you have no idea how anxious we writers get for feedback—reviews, favorites, followings, but mainly reviews. If you didn't enjoy the story, share the reason. If you did enjoy it, share why. The whole point of writing and publishing on this site is to share.**

**So please, readers, take just 30 seconds of your time to review. Not just on my stories, but every other story you read. It's the best way to keep something you're enjoying continuing.**

**Lots of love,**

**Theda**


	5. Thailand

Bond looked around him. Papers, desks, computers and chairs were scattered all around the headquarters. Thousands and thousands of shards of glass, bodies strewn across the room. The medics—dozens of them—arrived, people came in and out. His head hurt and there was a large gash starting on his shoulder, straight down to his elbow. It was deep and stung—the blood streamed down his arm and stained his clothes. He felt dizzy, the vertigo taking control of his senses and soon he closed his eyes—if he opened them he would no doubt vomit. He heard a voice calling him from the other side of the room : "Bond! Bond!" but before he could respond, he blacked out.

* * *

Maria arrived under heavy rain in front of the flat where Ms. Portman lived. She had never been só utterly afraid or worried in her life. She had arrived at her granddaughter's school at nighttime and the guard had been generous to give her the personal number of the headmistress. It had taken her another hour to reach the woman's home—such was the chaos in the streets due to a supposed terrorist attack to the British intelligence headquarters. The third attack in five years. The streets were filled with cars, police men were everywhere and ambulance sirens resounded throughout the city of London.

* * *

The Portuguese lady pressed the speaker button for Ms. Portman's flat and soon she was rushing up three flights of stairs. She could barely stand the burn in her chest, the adrenaline pumping in her blood, her sweat mixed with rain and nervousness.

Ms. Portman stood at the door with a relieved expression. Maria could barely hear what she was saying, her ears rung violently and all she could do was apologize ten times over.

"Ma'am, you seem very nervous. Please, come in and sit down. Would you like some water or some tea?" Maria sat on the sofa and was engulfed by her frightened granddaughter, Olivia felt cold too.

"T-tea, please. I'm so sorry, Ms. Portman..."

Olivia sat on the sofa, wrapped around her _vovó_, not saying a word until Ms. Portman came out with tea and biscuits for the three of them. They all sipped their drinks quietly for the longest of time. Maria regained her calm and then was able to speak.

"Ms. Portman—I promise you none of this will ever happen again. You see, I was away in the country for a few days and Olivia stayed with her father. I came as fast as I could when I heard on the car radio on my way back, that something—an attack—happened here in London. Considering Olivia's father did not go to fetch her at school, I'm guessing he was there during the attack. I still have no news of him."

Olivia didn't understand much what the whole fuss was about. An attack where her father worked? She couldn't even begin to imagine the gravity of the situation, but by the way her grandmother spoke and for the bit they had seen from the telly—Olivia's father was in trouble.

"Mrs. Maria, are you meaning to tell me that Olivia's father worked for the intelligence?" Maria nodded.

"I do hope you will be the most discreet, Ms. Portman. I just felt you needed to know, for the safety of my granddaughter." Ms. Portman nodded solemnly.

"So he isn't in Thailand?" Maria shook her head hastily.

"Unfortunately no. Ms. Portman, we need to leave now, to go home... in case they try to contact us or he arrives there. Once again I really apologize for being so late and for Mr. Bond's irresponsibility. I hope we didn't ruin any sort of plans or things you needed to do."

"Not at all, ma'am. I appreciate you telling me all this—now I know Mr. Bond didn't deliberately abandon his child." She whispered for only Maria to hear. "Olivia was so scared and she cried so much..." Ms. Portman lay her eyes on Olivia who tried to hide herself behind Maria. "I understand if she needs to take a day or two off from school and I would also highly suggest that you or Mr. Bond arrange for her to have a child councilor or therapist to help her deal with these issues."

Maria nodded.

"Yes. Thank you Ms. Portman. Goodbye. Olivia, say goodbye to Ms. Portman."

"Bye Ms. Portman, thank you..." The little girl whispered shyly. Ms. Portman smiled softly at her and waved.

* * *

Maria arrived with Olivia at home, only to find a one Eve Moneypenny waiting by their door with a worried expression.

"Thank God you're both all right! Bond will be fine, but he's in the hospital." She handed Maria her card with her contact and the address of the hospital he was staying at. "He's waiting for surgery. You might want to visit him early in the morning."

"And my granddaughter?" Eve smiled reassuringly at the little girl.

"Olivia, I'm your father's friend, Eve. He's told me lots of things about you—is it true you've learned to ride a bike without training wheels?" Olivia nodded with a small grin.

"Is he okay?" The little girl asked, worriedly. Eve nodded.

"You just have to be a bit patient, it might take a few days until he can come home." Olivia nodded, staring down at her feet.

"So he didn't go to Thailand?" She mumbled.

"No Olivia, your father didn't. He wasn't even planning to. When the big accident happened he was on his way to fetch you from school."

"Good." Moneypenny and Maria both shared a smiled. Things would be all right.

"We'll be sending in a babysitter to stay with Olivia in the morning, ma'am. It's the least we can do." Maria nodded in relief.

"Thank you, Eve."


	6. Every little thing

**Thank you, Sunday for the kind review! Keep them coming!**

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* * *

He awoke to her non-stop chattering with her grandmother and the smitten nurse in the room. He had thought of her the entire time. Had they gotten to the families? Had they gotten to his family?

He had learned through a visit from Bill Tanner and Eve Moneypenny that a lot of men and women had been lost and several were scattered around the London hospitals. The parliament was in a frenzy and even the townsfolk walked around even more protective of themselves-people were constantly looking behind their shoulders. People were vulnerable and the intelligence was one of their defense mechanisms. With that having failed, several times, chaos erupted and panic increased throughout Britain. And he wanted nothing to do with it... Which came as a great surprise.

The fear of losing his family the past week with the attacks had been so overwhelming, that he did not even consider returning to the field. No, he would stay in London and take M's offer of being a field consultant. He would advise and help train the new agents.

"Daddy, the nurse said you'll be returning home with us today." he heard her say with pure merriment in her voice, as she expertly climbed up the tall hospital bed and lay next to him. "We can see a movie tonight, I'll be nice and let you choose."

"Thank you, love." he kissed her on the temple and smiled. "I'm sorry you had to come see me at the hospital."

"It's not so bad here. The doctor gave me a balloon made out of a glove and the nurse gave me a jello. Are you still going to Thailand?" Bond shook his hand.

"Not until we can go there together for the holidays. Would you enjoy that?" Olivia nodded with a big smile.

"Mr. Bond and Olivia, it's time to go home! _Vamos p'ra casa!_" Maria said with excitement in her voice.

Later that evening Olivia was tucked into bed after having fallen asleep watching Bond's chosen film and he sat alone in the living room with his mother-in-law.

"I'm very happy you are not dead, James. But I think we really need to find her a therapist or something. Little girls shouldn't need to go through all of this loss and pain and trauma. You understand?" Bond nodded and Maria took his hand, caressing it lovingly. "I lost my daughter Ana, but in return God gave me you and I am glad. I love you as if you were my son and I was very afraid of losing you."

"Thank you Maria, I truly appreciate it. All of your help and support with Olivia. You did all of the work. Thank you for always being here and giving me chance after chance." She smiled and eyed him with those big, sparkling brown eyes.

"_Every little thing is gonna be all right_..." Maria sang, her voice full of humor. "Wasn't that what the one with the big hair said? It's true!" She laughed.

"Bob Marley?" She nodded with a smile and just like that the song was stuck in his head for the rest of the week.


	7. The End or New Beginnings

Bond could hardly believe that an entire year had passed. As he watched his daughter playing tag with two other children at the park nearest to their home, smiling and giggling, he couldn't help but be contaminated by that joy as well. He'd always figured fatherhood wasn't for him—first and foremost because of his job as an agent—always travelling, always in danger—never having a home. Until one fated evening, he met Vesper Lynd on a blasted train ride to Montenegro…

From then on, Bond had pictured them living happily in France or Italy, but never a baby—Vesper didn't seem like the type. But perhaps with time… Bond would never know. After her death he lost all hopes to find love and family, that notion, that secret desire, it had drowned away along with her.

And then, years later, when he least expected it—James Bond was mesmerized by a pair of brown eyes and a moving and haunting voice. He fell in love with Ana and married her, against all odds, the two of them making plans to live in a small village by the sea and he leaving his job and following her around on her music tours. Before they could accomplish any of those dreams, came the surprise one very hot Portuguese evening—Ana carried their child inside her.

And that child was a girl of six years now, the prettiest and most intelligent little thing he'd ever seen. It was Bond's daughter the woman of his life—the one he would love forever, no matter what.

…

They were eating their sandwiches sitting at their favorite park bench, under the shade of a large magnolia tree, in full blossom—the scent of the flowers mixing with the sunshine and the smell of grass, earth and Olivia's lavender baby cologne. It was the end of summer.

"Dad, do old men fall in love?" She asked out of nowhere, in between bites.

"From what I've heard, Livie, there's no certain age for that."

"Well, you should fall in love—_avó _Maria thinks so too."

"_Avó_ Maria has been watching too many soap-operas for her own good." Olivia chuckled and nodded.

"Ms. Portman is very pretty and she's not married."

"I don't know Olivia—I would rather it be just us three—you, me and Maria." Olivia sighed exasperated.

"But we've already invited her to dinner!"

Bond couldn't believe it; he was being set up by his own daughter… Although in all honesty, Ms. Annalise Portman was indeed a very beautiful, caring and smart woman—he'd thought of her quite often the past few months—always bumping into each other in the hallways of Olivia's school… He liked her, but he didn't know that he loved her—it wasn't anything extraordinary and mind-blowing like his feelings for Vesper had been—or even the feelings he had for Olivia's mother.

He would give it a try—this dating thing—it couldn't be _that_ bad…

…

James Bond kissed his sleeping daughter goodnight and crossed the hall to his bedroom. She was there, the woman he loved, glasses on and dark hair falling onto her face—concentrated on a book. It hadn't been bad at all.

She looked up at him, Annalise, and tenderly smiled, patting the spot beside her for him to lay with her.

"You know James, you're still owing us that trip to Thailand…" He chuckled and pulled out an envelope from the drawer of his nightstand. Annalise eyed him suspiciously and upon reading the contents of them, smiled brightly. Four tickets to Thailand—they would be set to leave on their winter holiday.

"Oh, James, I just hope that by then I'll still be able to wear that bikini—you know, that lovely green one, what with a giant pregnant belly and all…" The way she said it, nonchalantly… the information nearly escaped him.

James looked into Annalise's eyes for confirmation and she smiled, nodding—her cheeks turning a bright pink.

"See? Family life isn't so bad." James kissed her on the lips. Of all things, _that_ he had not expected.

THE END


End file.
